


Made in Britain (subtitled: The Sun Never Sets on British Moons.)

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Crack, Divided by a Common Tongue, Humor, Other, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone speaks in a mish-mash of British slang (as taken from a site- I can't vouch for any of it ever being in actual use). Cockney rhyming slang is included, but not limited to that.</p><p>Vila is annoyed, Avon quarrels with him, Gan and Blake intercede. </p><p>That's about it, really. (the Other rating is for the sexual content in dialogue.) It's short, but it just wouldn't fit with anything else to make a compilation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made in Britain (subtitled: The Sun Never Sets on British Moons.)

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Vila sat down, looking gloomy. 

"What's the crack?" asked Gan.

"Would you Adam and Eve it, that aviation blonde's turned vagetarian on me and after I Aussie kissed her all last watch, too." 

"Oh, you're away with the mixer," Gan said. "Jenna's probably just up on blocks. No need to cast nasturiums."

"I saw her almond rocks and Alan Whickers in Cally's laundry bag." Vila sighed. "She bamboozled me. I guess she doesn't like baby gravy as much as I thought. Bags I get the next nice bit lands on Liberator."

Avon blinked. "Well, don't look at me. Not after you tried your sausage fingers on my rusty bullet hole."

Vila slumped, grumpily. "Oh, yes, listen to Action Man, there."

Gan looked nervous. Blake cleared his throat and started to get up.

Avon laughed. "You needn't put your backs to the wall." Avon sniffed. "I have better taste. Even if I haven't tasted any in yonks."

"Oh, who cares about you? You're just a wide boy, really," Vila snapped.

Avon snarled, "And Jenna always wore the trousers, didn't she?"

"Up your bum!"

"Up your clunges!"

"Er, Avon, you have egg on your chin," Blake said. When Avon looked down, Blake knocked him unconscious. Blake sighed. "I couldn't let him have arms with Vila."

Gan nodded and bent down to pick up Avon by the shoulders. "I remember the last time, Blake. What a Barney."

"Once he cops some zeds, he'll be over his chord." Blake looked sternly at Vila. "Why don't you just go burp the worm and forget about Jenna."

Vila sniffed and left. "Abysinnia." 

Gan looked at Blake. "But what'll we do about Avon?"

"Buy him a battery-operated boyfriend." Blake picked up Avon's feet. "Mind the step."

**Author's Note:**

> This is just... what happens when I find a site like: http://www.peevish.co.uk/slang/index.htm


End file.
